


Worgen in Felwood

by Axelex12



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Captivity, Complete, Dubious Consent, F/M, Felwood, Femdom, Lust, Lust Potion/Spell, Maledom, Maledom/Femsub, Master/Pet, Master/Slave, Multiple Orgasms, One Shot, Penis In Vagina Sex, Post-Coital, Sexual Slavery, Simultaneous Orgasm, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:08:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27738949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Axelex12/pseuds/Axelex12
Summary: Worgen Warlock in Felwood gets himself New pet.Maledom/FemsubFemdom
Relationships: Female Night Elf | Elves/Male Worgen (Warcraft)
Kudos: 10





	Worgen in Felwood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SlutWriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlutWriter/gifts).



The ancient road's stones were cracked and overgrown with putrefaction of countless decomposing plants, and occasionally, the stray unidentifiable remains of some nameless creature. Felwood was no place for the weak; the demon-scarred lands weeded out all but the strongest and most powerful. The once-natural beauty of the glade had been forever tainted by the Legion; the mighty oaks warped beyond distinction, the wildlife turned rabid and frenzied, even the pure waters that once flowed had become a sickening pool of slime.

The road's weary stones crumbled to dust as a covered heel boldly stepped forward. The swagger spoke of confidence and untouchability, two traits essential to any who expected to survive in the harsh Felwood. Yet amidst the decay and abandonment stepped a silver-clad figure. A bright luster shined in the hazy sunlight amidst layers of grime and dirt caked on the platemail. A tight, form-fitting metal plate underlaid by a veil of interlocked chain rings hugged the mid-section of the torso. It revealed a curvaceous outline, snugly fitting across the voluptuous bosom, seemingly pushing it together to paint a tantalizing cleavage. The midriff lay bare save for a plain leather belt, which supported a series of interlocked metal plates running down each outer thigh. A flowing length of silky cloth rolled down from the waist to the knees, stained by dried blood and dirt, with obvious streaks of a sword being wiped off. The silk ran down the front only; the warrior's back was completely bare of any accoutrements. Sweat glistened off the exposed ass cheeks and rolled down the hamstrings and calves of the long, thin shapely legs.

Mooni viewed donning armor on her backside as useless, and even counter-productive. No enemy would ever see her back against them, she had more pride than that. And for the common drunk that can't resist slapping the fine purple ass, it would be the last thing he ever saw anyway. Mooni's supple delicate skin, enhanced by the seductive soft pink hue, turned heads, but her long silky purple hair cascading down her back was what captivated both friend and foe. Her smooth, innocent facial features disguised the killer instinct trapped within the fiery embers of her smoldering yellow eyes. Mooni was a vicious killer first, a seductress second.

Her task led her to the ruins of a long-forgotten Highborne structure, tumbled columns and stonework littered the ground, overgrown by weeds and venomous vines. The area was rife with the stench of demons, but none were to be seen, an eye-raising suspicion in a glade overrun with the Legion's agents. The road tapered off into the wilderness, and Mooni took her first step off the familiar stone path and onto the suctioning mud of the tainted glade. Gripping the reassuring leather of the gleaming truesilver blade steady with both hands, Mooni advanced into the wreckage of stones and columns. Her heart raced and betrayed her perceived calmness as the eerie utter silence resonated from the ancient stone blocks. Mooni crept slowly against the ruin of a long stone wall, her intuition telling her that something was working against her on the other side. Crouching against the stonework, she pressed her head against the blocks, but heard nothing.

With a fierce and sudden intensity, a satyr's blackened halberd pivoted from behind the wall and hurled straight towards her, a quick and deft twitch reflex parried the skull-adorned polearm mere inches away from her eyes. With a surge of adrenaline, Mooni heaved the tip of the halberd downward with her blade and positioned herself facing down the other side of the stone wall, face to face with a gruesome horned satyr. Raising her two-handed blade high and to her left, she cleaved down and across, nearly slicing the menacing creature into halves, but its quick reflexes abandoned the entrenched halberd and rolled backwards to evade the sword. The satyr quickly bounced to its feet and withdrew from a hidden compartment a sinisterly curved dagger dripping with some dark green liquid. Realizing the difference in weapon reach, the satyr lunged with the poisonous dagger at Mooni with a savage hiss while she still recovering her balance from such a heavy stroke. The maneuver caught Mooni off-balance, her long two-handed sword falling from her hands as the two opponents tumbled on the ground in a desperate grapple. The satyr wrestled his way on top of his now disarmed enemy, trying to force the dagger to Mooni's throat against her grip. It licked its lips in victory, relishing in the aftermath of subduing such a beautiful creature that had wandered into its forsaken sanctuary. With a burst of strength, it briefly overpowered Mooni, glancing the poisoned dagger into a shallow slice near her collar bone. Mooni could feel the crippling poison taking its effect immediately, her arms weakening as her adrenaline began to drain against the stronger satyr on top of her. Frantic thoughts raced through her mind as Mooni prepared to fight to the last ounce of strength when the demon suddenly went limp against her. The satyr slowly rose to its knees and turned its back against her, walking to a shadowy corner out of her peripheral vision.

"Ugghhh". Still dazed from her nearly fatal encounter, Mooni placed a mailed hand on the soft dirt and attempted to lift herself off the ground, but found her strength still dwindling from the poisoned cut. A calloused hand wrapped in embalming silk extended into her field of vision, offering her a hand up. Eagerly grasping the hand, Mooni pulled herself to her feet and received her first impression of her savior.

He was shrouded in a dark robe black as the midnight, emblazoned with bluish-silver arcane symbols ornately runed on the edges. The robe covered the figure completely, but what wits remained could distinguish hidden objects and components underneath, bare against a hardened muscular frame. Mooni could discern the broad bulky shoulders tapering off towards the midsection, forming a 'V' shape. Raising her eyes from his chest to his face, she immediately noticed the rugged features of a male face tempered by the cruelties of everyday survival in this forsaken land. His red eyes, seemingly ordinary, shone with intense vigor and perhaps even a hint of madness. His sleek black mane, uncut for months, hung to the back of his neck, accentuated by the well-proportioned cheek bones and sharp jawline. Most disturbing, however, was a strange carved idol he wore around his neck, emitting an unholy aura of chaos and destruction, but most tantalizingly, power. Mooni's immediate reaction was that this was a handsome young worgen she wouldn't have minded crawling into bed with under normal circumstances, but a battle in the cursed Felwood was hardly normal. Her second reaction was a sudden realization that this was a Warlock, a dark sorcerer wielding the power of the shadows, forces that had shattered her civilization in ages past and was anathema to all her kind.

Mooni peered into the Warlock's eyes and found a penetrating gaze returned, a deep and spine-chilling leer that laid the entirety of her soul bare. Mooni flinched and broke the eye contact momentarily; his will power was clearly stronger, but her pride as a Sentinel would not let her surrender to him so easily.

"You set that satyr upon me, didn't you? What is the meaning of this? Do you know how volatile and unstable that magic is?" Mooni demanded angrily.

The Warlock's face turned to anger quickly, contorting his smooth facial features to wrath. Twisting the night elf's arm sharply and watching her gasp in sudden pain, he reprimanded,

"Watch who you're talking to, wretched little elf. Your haughty little attitude holds no sway here. I saved you from that satyr who held your life in your hands, and now I hold it in mine."

With a gesture, the Warlock motioned for the satyr to step forward. The demon emerged from the shadows, its eyes mesmerized and a ring of faintly visible runes revolved around its chest, obviously held under some powerful enchantment.

"I enslaved this creature to spare you, but I must admit that was only my secondary objective. Hand it forth."

The satyr produced a vial of a opalescent blue liquid, and presented it to the Warlock. Mooni's eyes went wide, it was water from one of the oldest moonwells of Kalimdor that had been stolen en route to the Cenarion Circle. That vial contained Felwood's only hope of ever restoring even a glimpse of its former glory. The Warlock noticed how Mooni's eyes went wide with disbelief and her long slender ears straightened, a clear indicator of astonishment.

"So, you're after the moonwell water too, eh? A lackey of the Cenarion Circle, no doubt. Well, I'm afraid I won't use it for such noble purposes, I quite enjoy this convenient little bounty of demons. I have my own uses."

Still with his grip on the elf's arm, he gestured to the satyr.

"As for you, your service to me has come to an end. I am not the least bit pleased that you have injured my new pet here. Make yourself scarce and perhaps you will not incur my wrath, I will allow you that in exchange for this vial. I am a man of my word. Be gone."

The satyr promptly returned to consciousness as the revolving arcane symbols faded into nothingness. It took off at a full bolt in the opposite direction, never looking back. There was an order of hierarchy of power for the denizens of Felwood.

The Warlock turned back to the elf, she had fallen to her knees and silently winced in anguish as he still held her arm. He released his iron grip and took hold of her chin, directing it to look him directly in his piercing brown eyes.

"Let's set the tone right now. I am the master, and you are the servant. You are dirt beneath my feet; your pitiful existence does not even warrant any enslavement enchantment. You are a toy for me to amuse myself on the lonely nights. You will call me Master Zarax. Now, what do you call yourself?"

Mooni's eyes quivered in fear as the worgen lorded over her. Never before had she been talked down to in such a way, so utterly vanquished and dominated.

"Mooni," she whimpered softly.

"Mooni, huh? That's a beautiful name for such a common whore." He replied. Taking a minute to fully inspect his catch, the Warlock ran his clawed paw down the velvet skin streaked in sweat and dust. As he reached the bottom, he felt no metal plate on her backside. Zarax lowered his mouth to her ear and spoke in a deep, frothy whisper.

"Tell me, my dear little Mooni, why are you dressed like such a skank? Have you come to Felwood to do battle demons or to go looking for a mate? So far, I am assuming the latter."

Zarax roughly pushed the elf against the stone wall, watching as she collapsed and leaned against the stone blocks. Her muscles and will to resist was waning, the crippling poison slowly leeching her strength. Mooni knew she did not have the will nor power to defeat such a powerful worgen, regardless; his confidence and dominance beamed and forced her into subservience.

"How dare you say such things! I am a warrior, I fight with pride and hono -"

Zarax's palm left a flaming emblem on Mooni's cheek, blood rising to the inflamed print.

"That was not the question I asked" he replied coolly. "True warriors do not go to battle dressed as brothel girls, but I suppose it's hard to deny your race's heritage, isn't it? I'll be more than happy to oblige you."

Straightening his robes and picking them up slightly, he squatted down to meet her at eye level.

"You know better than to resist me, don't you? You realize the difference in power, don't you? You know what an enraged warlock can do with souls, don't you? Nod."

The frightened and bewildered night elf nodded. She felt her will and reasoning sapping from her. The cold, penetrating eyes moved closer to her, towards her face. With a sudden intensity, Zarax caught her lips in his mouth, and plunged his tongue within, tasting the soft silkiness of her supple lips.

"Mmmmmfff!" Mooni mumbled in between breaths, her eyes wide with shock.

With her mouth enraptured, his hand slid down her shoulders and felt a leather buckle. Quickly undoing it with his hand, Zarax unloosened the metal chest plate and removed the mass of metal and chain covering her torso. Zarax was impressed with the greeting he received, the night elf's breasts had ballooned out of their captivity into impressive spheres of wobbling flesh. The orbs were a perfect match for his hands, filling it exquisitely. He lowered his mouth down to the dark purple nub that contrasted with the soft pink complexion of her skin.

"No -please don't do this to me -" Mooni whimpered.

"I will do as I please. Don't lie to yourself, you want this as much as I do."

Gently suckling on her tender nipples, he licked and slurped the areola in circles, sending Mooni's back arching towards the sky as she continued to suppress her cries. Zarax pressed her flat against the stone wall, as he finally withdrew his tongue, leaving a string of saliva parting from tip to tip. He admired his handiwork; Mooni was flat against the wall, biting her lower lip and grimacing in a futile effort to resist surrendering herself completely to him. Her exposed chest was endowed with a gorgeous pair of pliant orbs, titflesh that melted in his mouth and nubs that hardened like a rock in his maw. Beneath her voluptuous bosom was a chiseled set of flat abs, with just enough baby fat to make it a slightly fluffy pillow to rest in. The belly button proportioned her midriff perfectly, and pointed downwards as an omen of things to come. Her bent legs were closed together tightly, as a last-minute resistance.

"You will surrender yourself to me one way or another. It can be either mutually pleasurable for you, or as a slow torture."

Zarax placed his hands on the top of her knees and pried outward, finding a wobbly resistance in her legs, but resistance nonetheless. Forcing both legs onto the ground to the side, he positioned himself between them and against her spread-eagled body. He ripped off her leather belt with a rough jerk, sending it flying to the side. The length of silk running down from the center of her belt down to the center of her knees lay supine against the dirt floor.

"And what is this? A tramp showing a little modesty to cover up her private parts, huh?" Zarax added with a smirk.  
Brushing the cloth to the side, he was greeted by the sight of a magnificent bare pussy, dripping wet with her own juices.

"Just as I thought, you want this bad, don't you?"

A pitiful whimper passed through her lips as his rough hands spread the legs further apart and pried open her dainty petals, exposing the bubblegun pink of her anatomy.

"Please, please! Don't do this to me - I'll do anything but this -" Mooni begged.

Ignoring the pleading elf, Zarax reached into his robes and pulled on some hidden length of string or rope, his lower robe sinking to the ground in a satiny heap, revealing his throbbing member. He stroked it slightly, perking it up and preparing it for voyage.

"It looks quite happy to see you."

Positioning his knotted cock at her quim, Zarax looked in her eyes and saw her quivering eyes beginning to tear, a puppy look. Moving his hips backwards first to gain momentum, he slammed the full length of his meat into the night elf. His sudden reaction was a burst of pleasure and senses dancing on his cockhead as it burst through her hymen and pussy, the utter tightness enveloping it completely, sending waves of euphoria through him. He watched as Mooni's globes bounced from the impact, oscillating upwards and downwards as the force overtook her. She arched her back and screamed in anguish and pleasure at the top of her voice, surely attracting every demon in Felwood. The sudden thrust felt like it tore apart her pussy, her inner walls clasped tight around the rod, clasping it tightly, as if it were squeezing on it. Mooni's nostrils flared as she took deep, sharp intakes of air, still trying to fully realize what had happened.

Zarax began to slowly pull outwards after having relished for several seconds in fully sheathing himself in the pretty little virgin night elf. Pulling back an inch or two, he thrusted forward again, noticing her naked hips on the ground involuntarily bucking and gyrating against his, as if inviting and pulling him in further. Her chest heaved as it took in lungfuls of air, her bosom rising up and down. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she broke into sobs as he took her. He pulled himself out completely, trails of her juices mixed with blood leaking out of her pussy and onto the ground. Giving the inexperienced elf to take a breath, he placed his cockhead near her entrance again, slowly popping the blunt mass inside as it was enveloped by her delicate pink folds. He slowly slid it deeper and deeper in her cunt, watching Mooni's face, her yellow eyes still quivering with fear and trepidation and cascading tears. Zarax then thrusted forcefully into her, extracting the pleasure from her tight walls.

"Hynnngghh!!" Mooni groaned as she threw her head back and gritted her teeth, her eyes pinching together in concentration.

Zarax couldn't help but enjoy the elf's screams, urging his primal instinct onwards faster and harder. When he finally withdrew from her, he quickly extinguished that false hope, sliding it within that tight sex again and again. He began to push himself deep within her, pushing against her legs, hands on either side of her. He leaned in close to her face, watching her facial features contort as she juggled sobbing with uncontrollable moaning and screaming. Mooni finally collapsed on herself and slid to the side in a fetal position, a deluge of tears distorting the beautiful symmetry and markings on her face. Her abdomen was spasming, juices still leaking from her quim.

"I shouldn't break my new toy so early, huh? I'll let you have it easy, since it's your first day after all. There will be many more to come."

Placing his hand on the back of Mooni's hair, he pulled her upwards and with the other hand, guided his pulsating canine cock into her delectable full lips. Placing his hands on the back of her head, he pushed it back and forth as her glazed eyes seemed to stare off into space. As the feeling built up inside him, he released it down her throat, sending rope after rope of hot semen cascading down her throat. He pulled his member from her mouth, watching the trail form a strand as he pulled away. He allowed her to fall back onto the ground, choking in between sobs, her arms trying to cover her breasts preserving what dignity she had left. Her knees were bent towards her, as if trying to form a barrier to any further penetration to her violated cunt.

Zarax dressed himself in the robes, but he couldn't help but feel a tinge of pity for the spent night elf lying on the ground in a heap in front of him. He lowered himself to Mooni and took off the upper cloth that made up his robe, a long length of black satin. He could feel the cold night against his musculature, but it was the least he could do. He pulled Mooni towards him and wrapped her and himself in the satin. He placed her head on his abs, not wanting to scar her further by putting it on his lap. He ran his fingers through her silky purple hair, feeling its smooth texture. He could feel her slender naked physique against his hard frame, and held her closer so that the cloth would cover them both.

"You'll be safe for tonight at least - I would not release you back into these wilds when you are so vulnerable. Sleep, you've had a long day. There is still tomorrow."

****

Mooni opened her eyes. She quickly assessed her surroundings. It was morning, the sun was rising. She was lying against the ruins of a short stone wall. In front of her was a small crackling fire and several charred logs, evidently burning all night. She was completely naked. The Worgen's paw was wrapped around her waist; he was soundly asleep with his head resting against her shoulder. A sparkle in the distance caught Mooni's eye — it was her truesilver blade.

Mooni slowly and meticulously removed the Worgen's hand and gently placed his head to rest on the ground. She rose to her feet and carefully tiptoed to the glimmering sword. With the familiar leather handle in her hands once again, Mooni boldly strode to the sleeping wolf-man. With a flash of fiery hatred in her brilliant yellow eyes, the executioner raised the sword high in the air for a deathblow.

"Do you think I'm that naive?" Zarax's eyes flared open, a self-assured smile creeping onto his face. Black runes glowed on the sword's leather handle, burning Mooni's hand with such a searing intensity and sizzle that the night elf released it immediately despite her hardened resolve to kill. The black-robed warlock took his time rising to his feet, with the same patience as if disciplining an unruly child. He placed his wrapped hands on the disarmed elf's hair and roughly jerked her downward, dropping her to her knees. Pressing the unruly elf against the cold stone wall, he forced himself inside her unwilling mouth. The invading protrusion smeared again and again against her tightly sealed mouth, trying to gain entrance. A knee cap caught her in the jaw, causing it to buckle slightly ajar, enough opportunity for him to slip in. She felt the torturous slimy thing go in and out of her mouth, utterly violating her. Yet she felt strangely compelled -- to suck it, slurp it, suction it dry. She found herself enjoying it even, it had a pleasing taste; in fact she began to vigorously suck on it. This was one of the most nourishing flavors she had in a while!

Mooni opened her eyes. Zarax had his fingers in her mouth; she was sucking on his index finger as if she were utterly famished. The taste on his finger had the smell of a recently killed hare. She quickly assessed her surroundings. It was morning, the sun was rising. She was lying against the ruins of a short stone wall. In front of her was a small crackling fire, a small black pot with a couple strips of flesh and several green herbs were bubbling inside. A black satin length of cloth covered her body, shielding her from the cold night. She was still completely naked, her armor and sword were nowhere in sight. The Worgen squatted beside her naked frame, and evidently had been feeding her the stew with his fingers.

"You're finally awake. I would have left you to the scavengers and demons if you had slept any longer." Zarax announced in an unemotional tone. He didn't appear to have been phased at all by what he had done!

Mooni could sense butterflies fluttering in her head, her mind slowly regathering its senses. It felt as if she had awakened from a coma, her body was recalibrating to itself. Mooni curled her fingers, to reassure herself that she still had control of her own body. "How long have I been asleep?" Mooni asked. "Everything feels - different."

The warlock shot a glance at her. "A day and two nights. I assure you, I have more important business to attend to than to baby-sit a silly elf that drank too much firewater."

Mooni felt slightly perplexed. It was true, she couldn't remember much of what happened earlier. She'd have to ponder on it later -

'Get up.' A voice interrupted her thoughts. "Clean up this camp site. We have places to go." No one spoke like this to her, no one ordered Mooni around. What had happened?

A rough hand pulled her to her feet by the scruff of the neck. Suddenly, it all came back in a rush. A flood of memories and emotions surged into her head. She remembered the surprise as he threw her to the ground, on this very same spot. The fear as he gazed into her eyes with a hungry stare. The gut-wrenching agony and shrieks as he split her open —No. Mooni didn't want to think about what had occurred here anymore. It was too painful —she could still feel the ache in her loins. Her mind finally readjusted back to reality, and she found herself staring at a patch of stained earth. She quickly averted her eyes upward, but not too high, to avoid meeting the worgen's eyes. Shame swelled through her being; this cruel warlock had struck a brutal insult against her proud warrior spirit. Rather than leaving her to die in the wilderness after having utterly used her, he had kept her alive to face the penultimate dishonor of being indebted to his charity.

Mooni bent to the ground and scooped up the velvet black cloth to cover her body; she still had enough modesty to cover herself in a man's presence, at least. She took the small pot in her hands and finished the remainder of the stew greedily - the hunger that gnawed at her stomach could not be ignored even if it meant facing the humility of a warlock's charity. Mooni watched as he extinguished the dying embers, scattering the firewood and destroying the evidence of a campsite. She studied the worgen intensely — was her strong independent will already falling under his spell? Squatted over and scattering leaves, Zarax glanced up at her, their eyes meeting for a brief moment. Hers lowered to the ground immediately.

After the warlock had finished concealing the campsite, he knelt down and reached behind a marble column that lay like a fallen giant, partially sunken into ground. He hoisted up a sword — her gleaming truesilver blade! Zarax held the heavy claymore by its sharpened midsection, his embalmed hands pressed against the smooth edge. By all accounts it should have sliced through the paper-thin wraps on his hand, but instead he non-chalantly carried it to Mooni, her eyes shining with a newfound intensity. Zarax heaved the sword towards her, the finely crafted masterwork rotating several revolutions in mid-air before the familiar leather grip was reunited with her soft hands. Mooni gripped it lovingly, feeling the familiar grooves and curves; the sweat-discolored leather binding felt at home against her palm and fingers' sweet embrace. It was her only real treasure, and now her only possession. As rational logic finally overcame her brief euphoria, she pondered why her captor had returned her weapon. Wasn't he afraid she would slay him, backstab him from behind when he wasn't looking? Mooni glanced around for Zarax, but the warlock had already walked away. It was as if this was no consequence, nothing more than giving a child a mere toy. Was he so confident in himself that he would arm an enemy who had every reason to kill him? Mooni thought back to her dream - and shuddered. Mooni slung the sword over her exposed bare back and followed the rustling black fabric sweeping across the forest floor.

The pair traveled through the twisted woods, the great trees contorted into unrecognizable monstrocities. The disfigured knot holes on the mammoths looked like giant maws open awide, screaming in silent anguish. Mooni's unfamiliar feet found it difficult navigating the tangled forest floor, strewn with gnarled tree roots and venomous vines. She followed a step behind the warlock, who seemed to glide through the tainted foliage with ease. It was as if Felwood was his own backyard. No satyr, demon, or beast made their presence known, but she could sense their malevolent yellow eyes following her nubile form hungrily. The pair trudged on in silence until high noon, finally stopping beneath a mighty oak with a grand canopy. The hazy atmosphere was oppressive; beads of sweat trickled down every part of her body. Mooni greedily gulped down the canteen of water Zarax handed her. She was the first one to break the long silence.

‚Why?' Mooni questioned in a weak, broken voice. Why had he forced himself on her? Why did he utterly humiliate her? Why was he caring for her now? These were all questions that haunted her the entire morning, questions she wanted to scream at the dark-robed wolf-man.

Zarax ceased staring off into space and turned his attention to the distraught elf sitting beside him. Still clad in his meager length of black cloth, she appeared bedraggled and misheveled. Her fine, smooth hair was a jumbled tangle and drenched in sweat; her face marred by countless dried tears. Her body was covered in mud and grime. She was a mess, both physically and mentally. "Because I still have plans for you." His hand reached to stroke her soft lavender hair, but she turned away from him. It was too - painful.

Zarax had to do something about this. Mooni wouldn't be presentable in this condition, a broken down heap of flesh and hair. He placed his hand on her shoulder, a firm touch he hoped would reassure her. A faux smile was plastered his face, a friendly gesture he hoped would reach her.

"Come with me. I know what will make you feel better." Zarax cooed in his most non-threatening voice possible. He could feel Mooni's pupils slowly rise from the ground to meet his. Zarax took the elf by the hand, leading her to a small rocky outcropping concealed by a dense barrier of twisting disfigured oaks. A small spring bubbled from some hidden crag in the rocks, producing a shallow reservoir of sickly yellow-tinged water.

"The water is clean, despite its looks contrary. It's the same water that falls down to Darkshore, where your kind gulp it down quite happily, " Zarax declared. "Bathe and cleanse yourself, I find it an eye sore for you to be in my company." Mooni looked to his face for his approval. Was he being sarcastic? No one had ever told her she was an eye sore before, quite the opposite. Mooni stripped off her blade and laid it gently on the edge of the rocks, then unwrapped the black fabric wound around her body, carefully folding it and placing it besides her sword. Mooni sat with her exposed bare bottom against the cold stone. She dipped her toe in first; the water was chilly, but pleasant. She tantalizingly lowered her long slender legs until they were submerged entirely, the opaque water concealing them beneath the depths. She then heaved herself off the stone and plunged into the spring, the water coming up to her midriff. The naked night elf shivered in the frigid waves at first, but soon relaxed as she became accustomed to the temperature. Her tense muscles became noticeably less tight, their eccentric contractions no longer visible underneath the thin layer of pure kaldorei softness that kept her skin looking smooth and supple. Mooni sequentially splashed water on her arms, washing off the caked sweat and dirt. The mud slid off her smooth pink skin, revealing the flawless texture of her soft, glossy arms, the midday sun dancing shiny sparkles on the water droplets clinging against her frame. She held her breath and dove beneath the water, resurfacing moments later. The water slid down the graceful 'V' shape of her damp flowing hair, matted together by the wetness into a single elegant waterfall of deep purple cascading down to her shoulders. Mooni happily scrubbed away at her skin, slowly regaining confidence in herself as her undeniable beauty began to shine again.

So absorbed in her bathing that when she heard a loud splash at the other end of the spring, her heart skipped a beat and her nude body went rigid. For a minute she had believed that she was back home in Ashenvale, soaking herself in a soothing moonwell, washing the day's troubles away. And then it dawned on her — she was frolicking in a yellow-tinged watering hole, and her captor was in the spring with her. She was too scared too turn around — she didn't want to see what would be inevitable. Mooni stared straight ahead, to the other side of the spring, her back turned away, when she felt his firm hands on both shoulders. Zarax gripped her shoulders, feeling every dip, depression, and bump in her musculature.

"You're tense again - I saw you relax when you first jumped in. Retrieve that feeling for me, I'm not going to hurt you now." Zarax spoke softly and gently, trying to reassure the elf with her back turned to him. He leaned closer to her, Mooni could feel his hardened chest pressed against her spine. His mouth trailed to side of her ear, moving with purpose and cause. "Relax yourself, untighten your muscles", he whispered.

Zarax had disrobed and unwrapped the bindings on his hands, the mass of dark fabric and embalming tape lay on the rocks, next to Mooni's sheathed blade. He pressed his hands on her shoulders, rubbing her constricted muscles, applying a heavy pressure against the area. He began to rub harder, slower, and even harder, to the point of precariously unbalancing and tipping Mooni. He kneaded the tissue, feeling the pliant silky skin pressing back against his hands. He could feel her body surrendering to his massage, assimilating into his movements, rocking back and forth against his hands. Her back released its tension as she let go and assumed a neutral, relaxed spinal position.

"Ooooo—. It feels soooo good—" Mooni cooed, perhaps oblivious to her surroundings and the apprehension she had felt only moments before. She moaned as the balls of his palms dug into her back, conveying the sensation that her muscles were melting. His palms began to work into circles on her back, pushing against her with pressure, expelling the tenseness and lactic acid from her sore back. The elf's apprehensions vanished for the moment as she became mere putty in his expert hands. It was an unbelievable sensation, as his touch breathed new life into her body. As his fingers reached the small of her back, the specter of expectation encroached into her mind. 'He is starting to get awfully low —'. Yet her physicality could not resist the pure bliss as his strong hands applied a firm pressure against her lower back. She just wanted to fall against him, have him catch her and hold her tight against his torso, staying in the moment forever —

As Zarax finished his massage, he placed arms around her midriff, his hands on top of her stomach. Mooni glowed in the moment, but she still faced away, afraid to acknowledge those magic hands resting against her wet exposed skin. The hand traveled up her body and planted itself firmly against her chin, and began turning her features towards him. Mooni's body agonizingly slowly turned to face his, but her face faintly resisted meeting the sharp features, instead looking downward as if staring at his chest. Zarax raised both his hands, gently placing them to either side of her cheeks. He applied force upwards with his thumbs, raising her chin and face up to meet him in the eyes. Zarax could see the tear welling up in her eyes, quivering with uncertainty and a tinge of fear.

"You're quite a sight.... so delicate and vulnerable—" Zarax said gently. He stroked her cheek with his fingers, feeling the silky texture gliding against his fingers. He inched her body closer, bringing her full, supple lips perilously close to his. Mooni's sparkling yellow eyes closed, her lips opened to receive, inflamed with hot, burning expectation.

Zarax pressed his index finger perpendicular against her extended lips -- her eyes flashed open. "Not yet. Not here -not now, at least." He took her hand in his and led her to the edge of the spring, where their possessions lay on the stones. "You've had your fun, but I still need to prepare myself for this evening. There's a grand ball we've to attend."  
Zarax felt a pang of satisfaction deep within his darkened heart when he saw the elf genuinely smile. It was working after all, this little detour wasn't a waste of time. He stood his ground as Mooni circled him, cupping water with her hands and releasing it on his body. Her hands worked to rub and wash his arms, scrub and knead against his flared back, her delicate hand running teasingly against his features. He even felt a playful grope as she ran her wet hands in circles around his torso. As his captive finished her ministrations cleansing the dirt and sweat from his frame, Zarax placed his hands on the dry stones and hoisted himself partially out of the water, his thick legs still dangling in the water.

Zarax motioned for Mooni to approach him. Her cheeks flushed bright crimson when it finally dawned on her that her lips were perfectly level with his no-longer concealed member. It throbbed slightly at her nearing, becoming excited by the sight of her flawless facial features. Zarax placed his left hand gently on her smooth, slick purple hair. The strands gleamed with the sparkles of water reflecting the sun — it looked as if diamonds gleamed in her magnificently luxuriant silken strands. He stroked her hair softly, feeling the smoothness gliding between his fingertips, the touch intoxicating to his senses. He applied a light pressure to the back of her head, beckoning her closer to his crotch.

Zarax could sense the apprehension and fear in his elf, still uncertain of him and his intentions. Yet Mooni was strangely enthralled, both repulsed and captivated by this fleshy appendage that had utterly despoiled her nights before, and, not consciously admitting at least, brought earth-shaking pleasure to her first experience. His firm touch guided her closer until her facial features were mere centimeters from it. Her hand rose to clasp its girth, feeling the warm skin burning in her touch. It twitched multiple times in her torturously cold wet hands, but it knew that those dainty hands promised something more. Mooni's eyes finally broke from its mesmerizing transfixation on his tool and looked up at Zarax questioningly. She saw the glint of lust, of expectation. She feared her master's wrath, his anger should she refuse when he wanted her body's delights.

Mooni's eyes lowered to his member again, burning red hot in her hand. She brushed her cheek against it, feeling the warmth against her skin, inhaling the aroma of his desire. Her lips grazed across the veiny surface, eliciting an approving groan from her master. Her subconscious secretly agreed with him — it was true, she wanted this just as badly as he did. Her slender body began to shake with the same insatiable desire as his, the passion of the moment overtaking her logic and senses. Her tongue snaked out and planted itself on the underside of the base of his tool, the rest of the length lying against her face and nose. Mooni almost wanted to giggle at the absurdity of her libido's impulses. Her tongue laid a loving stroke, licking the underside of Zarax's meat to the tip, leaving a glistening trail of wet saliva on his otherwise dry dark fur. Soon to change, of course. Mooni had sampled his taste, and she wanted more. Her supple lips carefully enveloped his tip with a soft-lipped kiss — she could feel the pulsating shaft pounding against her hand's grip at his base. Her lips inched closer, suckling on his head, her tongue flirtfully dancing and teasing the tip with artful swirls and slurps. Her eyes again rose to Zarax's questioningly, seeking his approval.

Zarax unleashed a guttural groan as the Night Elf attacked his nub, the moist and damp cave of her mouth and her hot, inviting breath drove his senses mad. He gazed down at his toy, her hollowed-out cheeks suctioning against his head accentuated her sharp features, exaggerating the graceful sweeps and curves of her flawless face. It was as if he were looking down at a perfectly sculpted statue, except it was here, pleasuring him. Her long plumes of eye lashes rose and heralded her deep yellow eyes, a veritable lake of the richest jade. It felt like he could skip a stone in the lake of her eyes and watch the awe-inspiring beauty and harmony of the ensuing ripples, waves in the mesmerizing hue of her eyes. Her eyes begged of approval, like a hungry puppy desperately whining at its dinner bowl. He fought with himself to keep from forcing his hands against the back of her head, to prevent himself from just using her mouth for his own immediate pleasure. It would scar her further, and undermine what trust he had built so far. "You're amazing, my little Mooni. I thought you were a virgin - how could you possibly be this good - don't stop — " he cooed. His hips involuntarily gyrated towards her, to help her along, desperate against her teasing tongue.

Mooni's rational thought shut down as passion and libido overtook her senses, her irrational emotions running amok in her mind. Her mouth ached with desperate need, sucking against his rod, her tongue trying to engulf as much of the length as possible. Her long slender ears wilted as Zarax slipped further and deeper into her mouth, to the entrance of her throat, their smoldering body temperatures intermingling with one another. Mooni could feel every ridge and bump sliding in and out of her inner check, the sensuality was maddening to her senses. Her tongue lavished him with praise, playing with his tip, sweeping across his head, caressing its underside through her ecstacy she was faintly aware of his growing primitive groans, reaching closer and closer. As his breathing grew louder, it spurred her lust onward. Her tongue lashed against his organ, her cheeks pumped as if milking him utterly, drawing poison out of a wound. Her mind shuddered and her vision blurred, as time seemed to crawl at a snail's pace as she could feel his member inside her moist shudder once, twice, as it exploded its load inside. Volumes of his cum shot down Mooni's throat, barely quenching her insatiable lustful thirst. It twitched again and again, expelling the last drops into her hungry, eager mouth. Her yellow eyes seemed nearly possessed, utterly berserk with wild passion. Zarax watched as his nightelf licked her lips and gulped down her reward, his eyes following the bulges tracing down her throat. Satisfaction swelled through him; it had been a while since he had taken anything quite this amazing. His wonderment was cut short as the lust-crazed night elf lunged out of the water at him, tackling him to the cold stone outcropping.

Mooni's steamy breath fell against his neck, raising every hair on body as she exhaled deeply against him, lavishing kisses upon his torso and neck. Her silky lavender strands snaked across Zarax's chest, their luxuriant divine texture sweeping against his furred muscles. It was as if she were possessed by wild spirits! Her knees pinned him down, her arms running against his chest, up to his neck and shoulders, then caressing his face before descending again. Her rump, stuck high in the air, lowered against him, begging to grind against him, against the saliva-covered organ of his. Her right hand shot down to grab his tool, viciously fighting against its softening, keeping its rock-solid state steady. Mooni brought her mound even closer against him, her hand stroking his member wildly, directing it towards her slit, brimming with her slick wetness. She brought the tip of his tool to her opening, dipping his organ's head up and down her pink gash, the head disappearing and appearing in her carnal folds. Mooni moaned in sheer lust, unaware of anything else as her hands brought his canine meat to graze again and again across her delicate folds, the sensuous teasing sparked the impulse to plunge him deep within the walls of her craving pussy. Her fantasy shattered in an instant of a second as the warlock overpowered her adrenaline-fueled lust and wrestled her to the bottom of the ground, his paws restraining her wrists to the cold stone beneath.

"I decide when and where," Zarax panted with exertion. He couldn't risk losing control of his pet whenever she felt frisky. "And as I told you, now is not that time." "Control yourself and get dressed, we are close to our final destination at hand."

Truth be told, Zarax, too, found it hard to control his impulse to utterly ravage the night elf then and there. Lust for the sensual lavender flesh raged in his veins, screaming at him to fuck the night elf senseless. But he had higher obligations to fulfill, and all would right itself in due time.

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Leave Kudos.


End file.
